The orange-tinted frames
rest on her freckled nose
turning her eyes to droop down
till my finger, on the right hand
shows a letter written 25 years back,
the pink sky spreads on the faded
black – cloth worn by me yesterday,
petals imprinted in her canvas
reflect the beaded necklaces she wore
her hair loiters down till the tiles
when the shoes step on a single strand
of black beauties sensible to fall,
she sits and stands down the stairs
to a doorway opening to the starry sky
where a single sphere emits the light
revealing her aura and snowy skin,
her hands sway the threaded nets away
showing a more clean bricked wall
mortared with the beaming sand
taken from the hearts of the ocean,
her beauty lies in herself ,
where does your beauty lie ?

I was told I'm the problem with society.
That the baby in my stomach was a mistake
and that I should be ashamed.
People cast their eyes away
...or they stare.
The judgment on their faces
and the whispers in their voices
cut my heart to pieces,
But none of their looks
or words
can make me love this baby any less.

I know that I'm young,
but it is part of me
just like it would be if I were older.
They say age is just a number
only when it comes to certain relationships though,
because if you're 17 and pregnant
age becomes important
and people become judgmental.

I was told I'm the problem with society.
That the baby in my stomach was a mistake
and that I should be ashamed.
But I'm not
and yes this baby was unplanned,
but that doesn't mean it is a mistake.
This baby is my happy accident
and my  life will change,
but I do not and will not regret
my beautiful,
happy,
accident.

The broncos won and I'm still at a dead end job
Didn't even watch the game, I was washing trash cans.
Heard about it through social media
About all the different things lady gaga looked like when she sang the national anthem.
Heatmiser, pizza rolls, dolly parton
Because one time dolly parton wore a red suit.
Which i thought was kind of a stretch
But i've read stupider things on the internet so i let it slide
I saw a commercial saying that tons of babies are born 9 months after the super bowl.
You know what else is right around that time in February?
Valentine's day
I don't think i've ever been less **** than during the super bowl.
Nobody looks at their man covered in nacho grease and beer stains and goes
"Oh yeah!" Its baby making time!
My girlfriend is in Florida working for Disney right now.
Thy have her doing laundry in a musty basement with middle aged Mexican woman.
It's apparently awful.
Ruins the magic she says.
Seeing cinderella scurrying around half naked doing her make up.
Wig cap and undergarments
Snow white with her nose up asking for kombucha.
Won't even make eye contact with the laundry vets.
Let alone my intern girlfriend.
I asked how the magic wasn't ruined before that.
After watching the play hairspray when they yell cut and
All the actors go back to their miserable lives, i figured it out pretty young.
This middle class manifesto
Where making 15 dollars an hour is a goal.
But she is the faithful type.
Loves her a good hoping.
That's why she hasn't cut me loose anyway.
She says she needs me around because i'm a taurus.
I have no idea what she means by that.
But i love hearing stories about mexican woman yelling in spanish at their iphone screens. And half naked princesses doing their makeup in hair nets. And her still believing in magic. I think it says a lot about her.
She gives me something to dream about while I wash these trash cans.

I’ll rev you like a Porsche
Pressurize the clutch then
ease on the equipped brake
enrolling the steering wheel

On the highway as we sing
Tuning choruses eccentrically
apply the mascara and smile
put my flock on, swing like Bowie

Craze up in seismic grooves
Shift to a self expression culture
be so extreme that you glitter
I’ll desire your ambiguousness

Unarguably, I’ll hold your hand
An evolved zeitgeist in revolution
squeeze their prejudiced little heads
replicate, experiment your persona

Once upon a time, I knew you.
Innocent, alone, quiet, but it all seemed like
A bad case of deja vu.
You knew me once, twice, thrice...
I knew,
You have the power to make our world
Or destroy it.
Despite this, I faithfully
Maintained the only promise I've ever made.

Once upon a time I felt the sun
Kiss my face and the wild breeze
Tame my hurting soul.

But now, I only feel the present.
All I know now is the emptiness
Of having everything torn away
From you.
This emptiness you brought me--
Let me repay it
As many times as you will allow me.

Or until
We return
To once upon a time.

You are the sea, deep but so hidden. Has anyone ever seen just how much more of you there is below your surface? Your waves will drag people out off of the shore and into deep waters. That is when they will break and spit them back onto the shore. The waves will be short-lived, never holding anyone for too long. Because all there is, is you.

You are the sea, giving and mysterious. People will flock to you for your beauty but you will keep a cool distance to stay safe. Keep them in shallow waters, nowhere near the person who you truly are. People will still try completely immersing themselves in you, showing you their vulnerabilities and you will completely ignore the importance of the gesture. Because all there is, is you.

You are the sea, surrounded by life but choosing to live alone. Those people that you see every day will ever only be people. Too many variables keep changing so you will only give the people enough of yourself to get them wet. Those storms that turn your insides will only ever be your own burden. Because all there is, is you.

I am a boat, pulled out and pushed back to shore by your waves. What could I be to the sea? My paint is chipped, my hull is cracked, and my interior is just as worn. But I will always brave your unpredictability as long as you let me, as long as you let me in close. I will tread the deepest waters because I have looked down into your depth and I have seen what you need. If a constant is what you need, Sea, then the constant is what I will be. Because it will never have to be only you.

your absence is a lingering sensation -
a persistent reminder that i will be waiting
forever;
for you to come back home.
where have you gone, ma?

every time i'm hungry,
i will wait in the kitchen for you.
i don't know how to cook, ma.
i always thought you'd be around to show me how.

and even though my room is *****,
i will clean it up for you.
***** and span, just the way you like it.
i will brush my fingers over my table to see
if i've left any dust
the same dust you left, ma

and even though you faded away
i found it impossible not to grip you tighter towards me;
and you slipped, ma.
when will you come home?

Personas, ever transient
ebbing and flowing
coming and going with
laughter
sorrow
anger
worry
and confusion.

Is it a question of
who am I?
or is it a question of
will I?

Will I
love?
Hate?
Fight?
Forgive?
****?
Save?

Heroes, villains
men, monsters
we're all of these things.
we are not static
we are a choice.

We are who we choose to be.